


Breathe

by surprisedreader



Series: Team Spirit [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism, Miscarriage, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisedreader/pseuds/surprisedreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yeah you would know all about sucking wouldn’t you.” Morrow hisses shoving away one of his team mates hands from his shoulder to bear his teeth at Patrick. Joe Morrow isn’t the C he’s not even an A for the Bruins but his teeth sharpen like a bears regardless. Some people get attached deeper to the spirit of the team than others. Patrick himself has downy soft feathers right under his hairline along the back of his neck and three larger stripped red hawk feathers that hang just behind his ear. It’s not really socially acceptable to be flashing fangs like that though even on the ice. “I mean you’ve been on your knees for half the league by now right?”<br/>The insult startles a laugh out of Patrick. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jonny go tense and the rest of the team shifts restlessly around him, but Jonny can just go fuck himself right now he has never hidden the fact that before they got their shit together he had been around. “You’re going to try and shame me with my slut statues?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

Patrick laughed circling around the goal as Chelsea Dagger blared in the back ground. Kris hits him first followed by Brad. “Hat Trick baby! Fuck yeah!” Brad yells in his face making them all laugh harder. They were dominating this game.  
“Lets do it again!” Patrick shouts detangling himself from his group to head towards the bench. He had his ass perch on the side of the wall, panting slightly from his shift, about to swing his legs in when there was suddenly a ruckus across the ice. Some of the Bruins were gathered together having what looked like an on ice argument, Morrow’s arm movements get larger and larger the more he is attempted to be consoled. It’s always fun to rattle the D-men. “Come on Boston, I know it’s a struggle but at least try and get it together.” Patrick chirps. Morrow whipped around then eyes looking slightly wild even from a distance.  
“Go fuck your self bitch!” He snaps pushing himself slightly towards Blackhawk territory.  
“Aw don’t be so sore man. I know it sucks to loose, but at least be a good sport about it.” Pat teases with a grin, Shaw chuckles as he passes him going over the boards for shift change. They fist bump as he takes the ice.  
“Yeah you would know all about sucking wouldn’t you.” Morrow hisses shoving away one of his team mates hands from his shoulder to bear his teeth at Patrick. Joe Morrow isn’t the C he’s not even an A for the Bruins but his teeth sharpen like a bears regardless. Some people get attached deeper to the spirit of the team than others. Patrick himself has downy soft feathers right under his hairline along the back of his neck and three larger stripped red hawk feathers that hang just behind his ear. It’s not really socially acceptable to be flashing fangs like that though even on the ice. “I mean you’ve been on your knees for half the league by now right?”  
The insult startles a laugh out of Patrick. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jonny go tense and the rest of the team shifts restlessly around him, but Jonny can just go fuck himself right now he has never hidden the fact that before they got their shit together he had been around. “You’re going to try and shame me with my slut statues?” He asks smiling widely and leaning forward a little. The refs are starting to notice something’s off and are started their way but it’s fine. He’s not really invested in starting shit with Morrow. It’s Rask who’s cage he would really like to shake and with the way he is shifting back and forth in almost twitchy movements in his crease he would say he’s done that already without all the extra jabber. “I think you’re just jealous I haven’t gotten on my knees for you.” Patrick finishes bringing his eyes back to a fuming Morrow. “All you have to do is ask baby.” He teases spreading his legs a little and giving his best sleazy smile. Sharpy tugs on the back of his jersey gently just to get his attention and whispers a “Carful Peeks, He is mic’d tonight.” Pat rolls his eyes at that but nods shifting to put his back to Morrow and finally get on the bench letting it go when he continues.  
“Yeah that’s what I heard to. All you have to do is ask and Kane is falling all over himself to suck your cock. Fucking cock slut Kane. Is that why you aborted? So you could keep sleeping around without a kid in the way.”  
Patrick freezes. Time seems frozen for a second and the roar of the UC becomes second to the ringing in Patrick’s ears. “What did you just say to me?” He asks shifting back around to look a smug Morrow in the face.  
“You heard me.” Morrow snaps and now both teams’ players on the ice have slowed their skating to circle in and hear this and the refs have made it over but even they are still now. Someone is talking behind Patrick pulling on his jersey for his attention again but it sounds like background noise, easily ignored. “I mean though if I got knocked up by some two bit NHL player who can’t even produce results for his team I would have aborted too, all slutting aside. Good choice.” Morrow gives him mocking thumbs up and next thing Patrick knows he’s dropped his gloves and he is throwing himself off the boards towards the Bruin. Morrow has a few inches and at least 25 pounds on Patrick but that doesn’t really count for much when you come flying across the ice and take them down at the waist.  
The two of the slam to the ice hard enough that they slid a few feet before Patrick has the ability to push himself up right and start wailing on the man under him. Patrick isn’t a fighter, he leaves that shit to Shawzy but the white hot rage pounding through him right now can’t be stopped. He feels a flush of heat through his whole body and distantly he knows his knuckles hurt and that people are yelling but it’s all back seat to the anger pouring out of him right now. How dare he. How fucking dare he talk about shit he didn’t understand.  
One moment he is raining down blows on a cursing and flailing Morrow the next he is being lifted up in the air by the back of his jersey being herded down ice. He lets himself be pushed and tries to steady his breathing but the panic is coming faster now and he’s shaking and gasping trying to force air in is tightening lungs. He is being pulled into a hug that he clings to as he notices that he’s crying to. Fuck.  
Fuck.  
The person holding him is rubbing his back and skating backwards slowly pulling Patrick along whispering soft soothing things to the top of his head. The soft quiet of the tunnel is a relief and he lets himself be ushered further in before he is stumbling too much to keep walking, his legs shaking now making him clumsy in his skates. Patrick pulls away from his helper and presses his back against the wall and sinks down to his butt, eyes closed trying to fight off the increasing dizziness trying to take him. Whoever is with him forces his head between his knees just as he is realizing he’s nauseous. The heat from before has left him in a sickening sweep of ice cold that curls in his stomach. “Fuck.” He chokes out. “Fucking God damn it!” The last is over taken with a sob that racks his whole body.  
“Is ok little Kane. Is ok.” The person in front of him sooths, petting at his sweat damp hair. When had his helmet come off? He didn’t remember losing it. Looking up Patrick is ashamed to say it took him this long to realize the person making those soft sounds at him petting him softly is in black and gold. “Chara.” He barely gets the name out through his hiccupping sobs. The giant of a man gives a half smile and tugs gently on his feathers. “Kane.” He reply’s back. “Need to breathe.” He coaxes pulling Patricks hand on the back of his own neck were his patch of brown thick fur lays and mimics the move on Patrick himself pressing their foreheads together stroking the down feathers. “Breathe.” He says taking an exaggerated breath that Pat struggles to copy.  
“I didn’t-“ Patrick starts to say and Chara shushes him.  
“Abort. This I know. He told us.” Fresh tears start at that before noise is starting down the tunnel. Fuck. His team is going to be coming for him.  
“Was I ejected?” He asks swallowing hard pulling back a little to look the other man in the eye, he already knows this answer. Chara nods. “Morrow too…” the Slovak man adds.  
“Fuck.” Pat curses again, pulling at his skates. He had to get them off. He needed to go and he’s shaking too bad to walk in them still. Chara bats his hands away and undoes the laces quickly helping him pull them off. He hasn’t needed help like this since he was a child. “You breathe ok now?” He asks and Patrick nods hard. The noise is getting louder. There is arguing. Fuck he has to go. He can’t face them right now. “Take cab home little Kane not fit to drive.”  
Patrick nods hard his head is already starting to hurt from the crying and his hands are beginning to throb. He should see a trainer before he leaves but his stomach is flipping again and he just wants to go home more than anything and lay in his bed. Chara helps pull him to his feet and hands him his skates giving him the best mother bear look he has ever seen while the man towers over him in his skates. “Home. Bed. Talk to him he would help.” Patrick is shaking his head hard and already backing up down the tunnel.  
“I have to go. Tell them I left ok. I’m sorry.”  
To be honest he doesn’t remember the ride home. He changed, dodging around questions and slipped out the back when someone had gone to go get the trainer. He sends up a silent prayer that he paid the cabbie right and that no one got a picture of him puking in the bushes.  
He feels empty. It’s not something he has told anyone yet. He knows he should. He knows that he needs to grieve and that moving on is ok but every time he thinks about it he wants to puke again. He is empty where his baby should be growing. Empty because his body couldn’t handle it. Because he worked too hard or wasn’t gentle enough or didn’t care for his body the way he should have. She died because he was incompetent. His baby girl. An accident. But she would have been the best mistake he had ever made.  
His sobbing has stopped by the time Jonny comes over, died down to silent tears. The condo is dark and he must have used his own key to let himself in but respected Patrick’s need for darkness because no lights have been flicked on as he stands in the door way.  
“I’m sorry.” Patrick croaks. His throat is raw. Jon makes a wounded noise and Pat presses his face harder into his pillow before going on. “I’m sorry Jonathan. I’m sorry I…”  
“Don’t.” Jon cuts him off. “Just…”  
“I didn’t know I was Positive. I didn’t know I could carry. You have to believe me.”  
“We don’t need to talk about this now.” Jon says again. He sounds strained, it hurts him too and selfishly Patrick likes proof that he isn’t the only one hurting.  
“In Switzerland, when me and Segs-“  
“Please don’t fucking do this tonight Patrick.” Jon is leaning against the door like he needs it for support and Patrick can just make out his features by the moonlight streaming in through his window. He looks exhausted. Patrick knows he shouldn’t. He should shut up but he is hurting and he hates that Jon has been so kind, so patient, so fucking perfect with him. He wants everyone to hurt like he hurts, be empty like he is empty.  
“I loved him.” Jon makes another wounded noise again and Patrick presses on. “Not like I love you, we could never be together long term Segs and I…But he was there when I needed someone and loving him was so easy to do. People don’t think so because of the partying and the attitude and the whole mess that is his life but…it was like looking back at myself and if we could love each other flaws and all, free of judgment, even for those brief moments who the fuck else mattered.”  
Jon was gripping the door handle so hard he looked like he might fall if he let it go. “I know you knew that I wasn’t pregnant with your kid. I know you knew and you were willing to pretend for me anyway. You would have raised her with me. Mine and Tyler Seguins baby.”  
“I want a family with you.” Jon snaps like it’s a threat. “We haven’t been together long but for fucks sake Pat we have been dancing around each other for years.”  
Patrick feels a rush of emotions at that. Joy for a brief moment, and then crushing fear. “I can’t do it again Jonathan! Shit I’m trying to tell you I can’t do it again and chance losing another one. I can’t be what you want!” He is yelling. Shit. He hadn’t meant to start yelling but he is feeling sick again and scared and he wishes Jon would just go away and leave him to cry by himself already. He can’t give him what he needs. Their relationship isn’t going to work.  
Their mutual wet sounding breathing fills the room for a minute before Jon speaks up softly again pushing away from the door and walking towards the bed. “We can adopt…Later I mean. When we are both ready. We will be great parents and I’m not going to ask you to try again if you don’t want to. I respect you. I know you are hurting and I know you have a past but you and me…” He pauses kneeling by the bed so Pat doesn’t have to stain to look at him. “You and me are a million times better than anything either of us has had before. We are long term baby and don’t you forget it.”  
“Jonny.” Patrick hiccups another sob. He tugs at Jon until he climbs into bed with him. They have game review tomorrow. He’s going to have to get up and answer questions to the media and questions to the owners and questions from his family and team but right now he was wrapped up with Jonny safe and warm, running his fingers along Jonathans own Hawk feathers feeling the sorrow in him settle for the moment. It wasn’t gone. He would have to deal with it eventually, but right now. Right now Jon was holding him and kissing the top of his head and it was the most content he had felt in a while. They could work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading I plan on doing a few more of these talking about how the 'team spirit' shows up on other teams. They can be read together or stand alone. Let me know what you think! Any requests for other teams or people you would like to see would be lovely.


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